


The Legend of the Sachraan Warriors

by Malaayna



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Calormen, Other, Own Character, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 23:08:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4498209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malaayna/pseuds/Malaayna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A  historical story from the land of Calormen,  as told by a travelling storyteller.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Legend of the Sachraan Warriors

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I wrote in grade 8 (2005) for an art project.  
> It's also the story that created my internet alias, Malaayna.  
> It's a bit rough and shitty, but I hope you like it.  
> It builds on the history of the land of Calormen.  
> Enjoy :)

_On my travels around the world, I have been to many a place with an interesting past. But none have a history as rich as the land of Calormen._

_In this mighty land,there is a legend. A legend that has been passed down over three thousand generations. This legend is said to have happened in The Ancient Times,  when the land was known by its previous name, Tiilarn._

_This is how the Legend of the Sachraan warriors was told to me._

The land of Tiilarn  was a mighty place, nothing of what it is today. With green, rolling fields and snow-capped mountains, it would have been a wonderful place to live. For the rulers of it anyway. The common people lived in what would be now called a third-world setting. They wore nothing but rags or hessian sacks. If not for the rich, green grass, the animals would have been starved and poor, for the 'half-bloods', as they were known by those of 'clean blood', did not have enough money to sustain themselves,  let alone their livestock. Although what the country was really known for was her bejeweled castles and places of worship. The main castle of the Lord and Lady, their children and servants, was the most magnificent of all. It was encrusted with pure gold, so soft you could mold it between your fingers, bejeweled with diamonds, rubies,emeralds,opals, and many more. The doors were of polished obsidian,  with silver designings of many of Tiilarn's 37 gods and goddesses. Their eyes were of the jewels that repesented them.

 

As a rule, the Lord of Tiilarn had to have eyes the colour of the sky, just before it turned completely black. Celestial Blue. The colour of the father of all the deities' eyes,Sirliyin- The Thunder God, he who had the head of a bull and the body of a man. He had black shining horns, the colour of the castle doors, with silver on the tips to match. As mentioned before, he had celestial blue eyes.

Sirliyin's wife, Malaayna, just as every lady of Tiilarn,  had eyes the colour of new grass shoots. The brightest, most vibrant green you ever would see. Her hair was the colour of gold trimmed bronze. Her full lips were the colour of the deepest ruby. Her skin the colour of copper. She had long, almost claw-like, nails on the ends of her dainty, ring covered fingers. And she wore a dress the colour of her eyes. Verdant Green.

The Lord of Tiilarn, as I have said, had celestial blue eyes and shining black hair. His bride, the Lady of Tiilarn, was almost Malaayna incarnate, except she had skin the colour of buffalo hide.

During the ancient times, there was a country across the border of Tiilarn,  called Sachra. In the land of Sachra, there was a magnificent battle. This battle was anything but ordinary,  being the beginning of the end for these great lands.

It all began in the Tiilarn month of Tel- the scholar goddess. The Lord and Lady of the grand empire of Tiilarn were beginning to grow weary. Because in that time, Tiilarn was the Great Kingdom of the West. Her armies had conquered many countries over the times and now had power over twenty five countries. One of which was Sachra. The reason for the rulers of this mighty land being weary was the fact that a few of the conquered countries were starting to revolt against their oppressors. And as I said before, the Lord and Lady were not happy.

So the Lord and Lady decided to ask the help of their thunder god, Sirliyin.

"Oh mighty Sirliyin, hear our plea. The minute, tiny state of Sachrais beginning to believe they can revolt against our mighty kingdom of Tiilarn. May you send some kind of divine intervention to help us win the battle." The Lord of Tiilarn prayed. But what he didnt know was that by asking for divine intervention, he had actually cast a spell, capable of releasing Sirliyin himself. Now the Tiilarn were a fierce, proud people, and this reflected to their gods and goddesses. Especially Sirliyin, who was cruel and, if need be, almost evil. Just as the Lord had finished his prayer Sirliyin began to discuss the matter with his wife...

"Oh Malaayna,her beauty and wit faultless , what do you think of it?" He asked.

"Oh my husband, and the light in my eyes," she replied in a bored tone, "If it is divine intervention they want, then I think that that is what we should give them. After all, they DID say the summoning spell."

"But what if it is that he did not mean it as the spell?" He questioned.

"Do you think he would have said it if he had not meant it?" She retorted sharply.

"I suppose you are right." He replied. 

"Thank you for listening to my ideas, Oh husband and the light in my eyes." She hautily answered.

"As you were." Sirliyin told her sharply.

 

The next day,over the border in Sachra, the leaders of the rebellion were holding a meeting. 

"Do you think we should?"

"I dont know."

"Do you think it will work?"

"I hope so. "

They were discussing whether or not to summon the Sachraan Goddess of War- Saskei.

The Sachraan gods and goddesses were not well known  at the time, for the Tiilarn royal family believed that their religion was superior to all others,so they made all other religions illegal. 

"Well I dont care what the rest of you think or say, I am going to say the summoning spell! " Their leader exclaimed. 

"Oh mighty Saskei,  wondrous Goddess of War, hear our plea. We are summoning you to appear as the last soldier falls, whether he be of Tiilarn or Sachraan blood. For we have heard form our spies, who act as Tiilarn servants,  that the Tiilarn Lord has summoned his god of thunder. For the battle ahead will be fierce."

 

A week passed since the prayers, and the leaders of both countries organised their armies. Although both parties thought their army was strongest, they were unaware that they were equal. Because what the Sachraan did not have in armour and weapons, they more than compensated for with brains and cunning. 

Finally the day arrived. Both armies arrived at the border. The morning sky was a muddy, misty red colour. The ground almost black with anticipation.  Although equally matched, the two armies were dressed entirely different. 

 

The Tiilarn side, although in their battle garments, were still wearing outfits encrusted with gold,silver, and numerous jewels. Many of them were on sleek, dappled horses, ofevery coulour imaginable.  The horses themselves also wore jewelled armour to some extent,  but nowhere near as impressive as their riders.

The Sachraan soldiers however, were dressed in rags, and had nothing but shovels,  rakes, spades, pitchforks, and other such tools. A few were not even wearing shoes.

 

As customary in those times, there was always someone who lived on the border between two countries. So if a battle ever did occur, there was a non-biased person to begin the battle.

"1...2...3...BEGIN!!" The Person From The Border yelled.

 

The first casualty was from the Sachraan side. With a blow to the head, he died instantaneously. His brother saw this happen and rushed over to the man who had slaughtered his sibling, and stabbed him in the heart with his pitchfork. He then threw the bloodied corpse to the ground and mounted the scared, shivering horse.

 

The battle lasted for three weeks. On the  twenty first day, the last soldier standing fell to the ground,  is head wound finally ending his life.

 

As this happened,  the ground began to shake, the sky turned yellow, orange, red, purple, midnight blue, and finally black. He rose from the ground, as if a part of the soil itself, attempting to break free. His black horns glistened, even in the shadows.

It was Sirliyin. 

 

He snorted as he heard the galloping of his enemy coming towards him. But there was something parculiar about his opponent.  Sirliyin heard the galloping of hooves, yet there was not a horse alive in sight. He realised why, just as Saskei cantered over the closest hill.  She was a centaur. Half horse, half human. With the head, arms and torso of a woman, and the body of a mighty, draft mare. She was a force to be reckoned with.

 

She was a beautiful,dappled buckskin, with the hair on her head pure platinum white. She had kind eyes the colour of the sky on a clear day. And she had a dark, sleek, muscled torso and arms.

 

"So we finally meet Saskei." Sirliyin snarled.

"Sorry I am not humbled by your handsome face." She retorted sarcastically. 

"You will be sorry you ever messed with me centaur!" He shouted

"It is you who will be sorry, cowface!!" Saskei  bellowed.

And so it began. 

 

Saskei leapt forward, her magenta broadsword spraying pink sparks over the Minotaur's large head. Her opponent, being the Tiilarn God of Thunder, threw magnificent orbs of blue sparks at Saskei's head.

 

This continued for over an hour. Then, somehow,  Saskei got behind her opponent, and sliced off one of his polished lack horns. As it fell to the ground,  Sirliyin realised that this, this....GIRL, was stronger than he ever could be.  It was at that moment, with blood gushing from the wound at the side of his head, he knew. He knew there was only one way to win.  But to do so, he would have to destroy everything and everyone, himself included.

 

So, covered in his own and his opponents blood, he raised both his arms, and uttered, almost mumbled, those awful words. I am not going to tell you the words he said, fore I have known people who have tried to find those words so they can use them.

 

Just as he was taking his last breaths, he finally realised what he had done. The beautiful lands of Tiilarn and Sachra were no longer what they used to be. They were just dust and desert. The snow-capped mountains were now just flat areas of water. He had wiped out everything that had been apart of the two most beautiful countries in the world. 

And so, he died feeling guilty and mislead by his own stupid urges to win everything,  but instead, had won nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> So please excuse my crappy writing, I was still a kid when i wrote this. I also, evidently, knew nothing of wars and battles lol


End file.
